The Heroes of Ulster Rise
by Lord umbrex
Summary: Bound by Oberon's curse, the Banshee seeks out the one person she hopes can help her, but that person is the one she betrayed the most. Will he help her? Or will he allow himself to be ruled by his anger?
1. Call of the Banshee

Gargoyles: The Ulster Heroes Rise

Disclaimer: I don't own it, but Disney and Greg Weisman do.

Summary: Bound by Oberon's curse, the Banshee seeks out the one person she hopes can help her, but that person is the one she betrayed the most. Will he help her? Or will he allow himself to be ruled by his anger?

A/N: This is just a long one-shot consisting of two chapters telling how I think Molly and Rory came back together and how they started on their adventures together.

Part 1: The Call of the Banshee

A year after learning of his past as Cu Chulainn, Rory Dugan walked down a dirt path at sundown one day during the springtime. He had his wooden walking stick in his hand and a backpack slung over his shoulder as he made his way towards his destination, which was his father's house that was a day's walk away. His pace was not slow, but he was not in a rush either, instead he seemed to be enjoying the warm day. As he walked, there was a sudden flash of light, and a being appeared in front of him, one that he recognized almost immediately. The being had long blue hair and purple skin, and wore a tattered green dress, but her appearance, for she was a female, was very familiar to Rory's brown eyes.

"You!" Rory yelled out with wide eyes, dropping his bag and gripping his walking stick tightly in preparation of a battle. He did not want to be caught off guard, knowing that such a mistake would leave him injured, if not outright dead. "I thought I took care of you at Cairn na Chulainn, but I see my old enemy returns once more."

_"Don't be alarmed,"_ Banshee's voice said in Rory's mind, her mouth unable to be opened due to the metal binding that Oberon had placed upon her as punishment for her refusal to partake in the Gathering. _"I'm not here to fight."_

Rory stared at the Banshee with a disbelieving expression on his face, keeping his guard up in case it was a trap, but willing to listen to her nonetheless. "What are you here for then?" Rory questioned skeptically, not knowing what it was that she wanted from him if not a fight.

Banshee pointed to her mouth, where the metal plate appeared as she dropped the glamour that she had placed upon it, allowing Rory to see her dilemma. _"I come to ask for your help in removing this. I cannot do it alone."_ She said in his mind once again, using her magic to communicate with him silently.

"You want me to help you? You, Banshee?" Rory laughed mirthlessly, finding little humor in the absurd request. "You, the person who betrayed me and tried to kill me?" Rory scowled in a mocking tone, holding his walking stick tightly in his right hand, not believing that he wouldn't need it.

Without another word, he picked up his bag from the ground, turned his back on the Child of Oberon and started to walk away, not giving the request another thought. He passed her by, sidestepping her presence, and continuing on his way, but stopped once more upon hearing a new voice in his head: it was of Molly, the girl he spent so much time, the girl he loved so immensely before he found out she was only out to get him. _"Please, help me,"_ Banshee's voice pleaded in his mind again, unintentionally conjuring up visions of Molly for Rory. Her tone was begging and painful, as if her lack of magic was killing her slowly, painfully; truthfully, though Rory did not know it, the metal in her mouth was agony as her magic was being stunted, and with that, her life was being drained.

"Why should I?" Rory questioned earnestly, wanting to know why she thought he would be willing to help her after all she had done to him. "You betrayed me, you tried to kill me, and most damaging still, you tried to take away my destiny, knowing full well I did not have much going for me at the time. You hoodwinked me into believing we had something, all for your own selfish desires."

_"Please,"_ Banshee pleaded in his mind once more, hoping that his internal goodness, for he was one of the best men that humanity had to offer in either his Rory or Cu Chulainn form, would overpower the anger he felt towards her. She knew it was a risk, knew that he probably wouldn't help her, but with the pain she was feeling from the binding, she was willing to risk confronting him in order to receive the favor that she needed.

Shaking his head, Rory started to walk away again, hoping to get away from the nightmare in front of him, but stopped not a moment later and took a deep breath. He had spent so much time with Molly, had experienced so much with her that he couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse in his heart. He had loved her, and her deception had broken his heart in more ways than he would admit. However, upon hearing her voice after so long an absence made something inside of him stir, and without a word, he gripped his walking stick more tightly and turned back to face the Banshee.

In a flash of golden energy, the walking stick turned into a spear made completely of light, and he was Cu Chulainn, the ancient Irish hero once more. Then, whipping his arm around, he stabbed the metal plate that was blocking Banshee's mouth, using his great strength to break through it's defenses, and it disintegrated with a little effort, being destroyed in a flurry of particles as it disappeared into the aether. Freed from the burden that Oberon had placed upon her, Banshee fell to her knees, tears coming out of her glowing white eyes as her magic slowly returned to her in full-she wasn't what she once was, but in time, she would get it back. However, the fact that she could finally use her voice, her precious voice that supplied so many of her wonderful abilities, was enough that she was willing to live without the return of all of her magic for the time being.

"There," Cu Chulainn said, turning back into Rory, preferring to be his normal self unless he was in battle. "Don't bother me again." He ordered as he began to walk away, but Banshee teleported in front of him, blocking his path; she transformed into Molly in an instant, dropping her normal appearance and taking the form of a human. "That won't work, I can see through your tricks now."

"Where are you going?" She questioned interestedly, her voice timid, almost sad, though Rory did not understand why. She seemed strange, Rory noticed, as if she wasn't the cruel, merciless being that she was months prior, a little over a year ago when she had attacked him; her attack back then had been cold, quick, and brutal, a far cry from what she was displaying at the present time.

"To protect Ireland: to protect the world from people and beings like you," replied Rory with a scowl, making a move to pass her, hoping to return to his travel. "But before I can do that, I have things to do. So, if you don't mind…"

"I'm…I'm sorry, okay?" Molly whispered before Rory was out of earshot, her eyes staring at the ground as the humanity that she possessed in the form of Molly overtook her. She looked up at Rory for a second, before bursting into tears: real and salty tears, human emotions flowing out. She had taken human form, blood and flesh and all, rather than just illusion herself into Molly, so her tears weren't crocodile ones, but instead they were true and real. "Without my magic, I couldn't help but think about my life, my past, Cu Chulainn, you, everything. And now I know; I know in my heart that I don't want to fight you anymore, that I don't want to be your enemy."

"So we won't then," shrugged Rory, looking into the distance, not daring to meet her gaze. A flicker of love appeared in his eyes, his heart breaking with every word he said in the conversation up until that point. Oh how he wished he could reach out and take her in his arms, desiring nothing more than to be with her, to laugh and be happy once again, but the festering bitterness that he felt at her betrayal was too strong to ignore. While he was a powerful hero, one that could and would face down death without blinking, he was still human with the entire spectrum of human emotions, the negative ones like anger and disappointment being no exception. "You go your way, I go mine, and as long as you're good, we'll never see each other again."

"I don't want that either, though," muttered Molly, kicking dirt with her left foot and wiping her eyes with her hands. Even though her Molly form had a hard looking appearance, for she had spiked magenta hair and wore tight blue jeans with a red belt, blue boots, a tight-fitting red shirt, and a black leather jacket, the human side of her was a real softy when she allowed it to be.

"Then what do you want?" Rory questioned quietly, wondering what Molly was trying to say. He didn't want to read into her words in an effort to prevent himself from being hurt, so he wanted her to expressly state what it was that she was after.

"I want to go with you," Molly answered simply, inwardly knowing that she owed Rory a great debt, both for his own actions in freeing her from her burden and for the actions that she had herself had taken against him. "I've since found that you're my only friend; those of my kind, the Children of Oberon, don't care about me. You're the only person I have, Rory."

"That's why you tried to kill me, right?" Rory sneered, his eyes burning in anger at her declaration. "That's why you tried to prevent me from finding my destiny, from becoming the man I was always born to become?"

"It was Cu Chulainn I was after, not you, Rory," Molly replied, hoping that he would understand the difference in her mind. To her, Rory was simply a human being, while Cu Chulainn was her enemy, not the man who was Cu Chulainn's reincarnation—it was a subtle difference, but a difference to her nonetheless.

"I AM CU CHULAINN!" Rory roared, not allowing her to get off on a simple technicality. The Banshee knew that Rory would become Cu Chulainn all along, meaning that she betrayed and attacked him just the same, regardless if he hadn't been in the form of Cu Chulainn while she did it.

"I said I was sorry, all right!" Molly replied angrily, though she did not appear to dislike what Rory was saying. "Look, I don't expect you to believe me, but I am willing to show you that I've changed. I'm willing to try. But if you don't want to give me the opportunity..." She allowed the tail end of what she had said to linger in the air, not really knowing how to finish it.

Rory bit his lip with his eyes closed, going over everything that she had said. Was she really willing to try? And if she was, did he have a right not to help her down the new path that she had chosen for herself? Could he handle having her around without distracting him from his goals and his reason for being? Finding his answers to those questions after a moment of thought, he took a step forward, walking in the direction he had been going before the Banshee had first appeared. "Are you coming?" He called out to Molly, who smiled and rushed towards him. He had no idea how it would work, if it would work at all, but if she wanted to try and be good, he knew that he had to help her. He would not trust her completely, but it was up to him to prevent another evil from punishing the innocent people of the world, a duty that he took to heart.

"Where are we going?" She asked in a curious tone, wondering what he had to do before he could protect Ireland from evil. In her mind, he had all that he needed, what with his gae bolga weapon and his unbelievable battle frenzy that gave him great strength and ability, each of which made him well prepared for any battle that he may face, regardless of the enemy.

"Well," Rory shrugged, giving a wry grin her way as his plan jumped to the forefront of his mind. "I figured since I've been reincarnated, my hound aught to have been, too, right? So, we're going to find him, even if it takes us a thousand years."

"A thousand years is nothing to an immortal," Molly replied confidently, having lived for an eon already, the prospect of living another thousand years was not too extraordinary to her. However, she knew that Rory himself was not immortal and that he would die just as the rest of humanity, albeit perhaps not as easily, which made an idea jump into her mind, a kernel of a plan that she would think through over their journey, one that would hopefully fulfill any debt that she had to him.

"I know," Rory whispered back with the same small, devilish smile on his face. A flash of blueish light emanated from Molly, and Rory cocked an eyebrow as he flicked his eyes over to her, curious as to what she had done.

"I'm in the illusion of a human now…just in case." She answered his questioning gaze, as her eyes moved about, as if searching for an enemy. "If I actually take a human form, I am human through and through, barring the ability to transform back into my natural state."

"In case of what?" He questioned, confused as to why she would take such actions. To him, it was an action that seemed to be in anticipation of something specific, rather than a healthy alertness to danger, which made him think that she had an ulterior motive by traveling with him, though he couldn't figure out what just yet.

"In case something attacks us, I want to be able to help you fight," said Molly, not wanting to find herself caught off guard in case Oberon or his any of his vassals came to retrieve her. She had been injured and in hiding when she had been tracked down by the Weird Sisters in order to be dragged back to Avalon for the Gathering, with the sisters combining their powers to manage to overpower her. If she had not been injured, and if she had been prepared, she knew she would been much more capable of fighting them off, even if they were fairly powerful in their own right, which is why she decided to take such cautious actions this time around.

"I'm powerful enough to defend us both, Molly," Rory replied, though he inwardly continued to wonder what it was that she expected to attack them. Was someone or something after her? Was that why she needed his help? Was this all just a insidious plot to have him help her defeat the enemies that were circling her? Shaking his head, he continued on with her at his side, hoping that she really was willing to change her ways and this wasn't one of her schemes.

They trekked for another hour or so, following a dirt path through a grove of woods, until the sun completely set, making their journey all the more difficult. With a sigh, Rory silently collected some pieces of wood that were on the ground and set them in a circle. He took a seat on a large rock that was nearby, and reached into his bag and took out a lighter and a piece of paper. Lighting the piece of paper in flames, he tossed the paper into the pile of wood, watching as it sparked and alighted, giving them heat and light for the chilly night.

"What are we doing?" Molly asked confusedly, not understanding why Rory had stopped. While she knew that humans had a fear of the dark, she did not know why Rory would have that affliction, as there were very few monsters in the world that he could not match in the form of Cu Chulainn.

"Setting up camp for the night," Rory replied, as he took out a small tea kettle from his bag, and then opened his canteen and poured some water into it. Molly took a seat on a tree stump that was a few feet away from the rock, though still close to the fire as she watched Rory do whatever it was he had planned.

"I could just bring us to wherever you wanted to go, you know," Molly suggested, not wanting to sit around and do nothing for the night when they could use their time more efficiently. As a being that could be anywhere and everywhere in the blink of an eye, she did not understand humanity's patience while traveling, how anyone found enjoyment in the journey, rather than the ultimate destination was far beyond her understanding.

"You shouldn't be using your powers like that, walking is fine. We'll get there when we get there," Rory answered patiently, placing the tea kettle down next to the flames in an attempt to heat it up. They went silent after that, each lost in thought as the darkness of the night started to envelope them. "I've been living like this for a while now; trust me, it gets enjoyable." He added as he started to relax, knowing that it would be a while until the water in the tea kettle was hot.

"What have you been doing?" She asked, curious as to how he had spent the last year without her around. During her time as Molly, the pair had spent every day together, so she wondered how he filled the void that her disappearance had created.

"Traveling around the isle, earning money, fighting evil, searching for what I need in order to fully embrace my destiny," Rory answered with a shrug, having tried to occupy as much of his time as he could over the past few months. Rarely did he spend a moment to himself, instead focusing on pursuing his destiny as a hero, a life that was not easy but extremely rewarding. "It's been a busy year."

"What is it that you need?" Molly inquired, wanting to know exactly what Rory was alluding to with what he was saying. There was something in the way he was speaking, a glimmer of something underneath that made her question what it was he was actually after and whether he knew what it was for himself.

Rory stayed silent, instead grabbing a small twig that was off to the side and coming back to the rock on which he had previously been sitting. "What am I?" Rory questioned as he tended the fire, poking at it with the wooden stick, before he tossed the stick itself into the flames, satisfied with the size of the flames.

"Your memory hasn't been restored yet?" Molly asked, surprised by that revelation. It had been a while since Cu Chulainn first reappeared, long enough in her opinion for Rory to come to an understanding of his new situation.

"Bits...pieces, not the whole story, just flashes of what once was," Rory replied, shaking his head slightly as his gaze moved over to the woman. "Mostly when visiting places that I went to during my previous life."

"You're Cu Chulainn, the hero of Eire, the hound of Ulster," Molly whispered, staring down into the fire in front of her, as the heat warmed her face. Instinctively, memories of her former battles with the great warrior formed in her mind, images of her numerous defeats at his hand taking shape. "You are…"

"No," Rory interrupted, stopping her from continuing. He knew all that, having researched the stories about his past life after learning about it, but what he didn't know is where he came from and why he had been reincarnated in the first place. "I know who I am; I meant literally, what am I?"

"Oh," Molly nodded in understanding, realizing that he actually meant 'what'. "We call you the protectors, the guardians, for we don't know what you are actually named. Humans in the past called you epic heroes or demi-gods, we simply call you the middle-way; neither halflings nor human, you simply are warrior humans."

Rory cocked an eyebrow at something that Molly said, confused by her terminology. "Middle-way?" He asked, puzzled as to what she meant, having never heard it before other than in the teachings of Buddha.

"Something greater than humanity, but less than a hybrid," Molly answered, having no other term for what Rory was besides that. "You and your brethren were born in an effort to protect humanity from the Children of Oberon, from gargoyles if the situation calls, and yes, even from humanity itself. You're human yes, that is for certain, but you're...different. Stronger, faster, more stout and filled with greater vigor than the rest of humanity, more evolved than your brethren, you are a match for even the most powerful of my kind. You're the sentinels of humanity, granted great powers beyond normal scope. And through reincarnation, you learn from each of your past lives, gaining more cunning all the while, becoming better and wiser as you go."

"There are others like me?" Rory asked, quite surprised but happy with that revelation, having assumed that he was one of a kind with his nigh-magical powers. "So I'm not alone? I'm not the only one like this?

"No, there have been others before and after you, so there are some," Molly nodded, looking up at him for the first time since the conversation began. "Humans called them Beowulf, Enkidu, Gilgamesh, Sigurd, names I'm sure of which you are aware. You know the warrior known as Achilles? He was the same sort as you. The beings known as Kintaro, Rostam, Hercules, and the huntress Atalanta? All likewise are the same as you. You all have been scattered about history; you are rare, but known nonetheless."

Rory nodded silently, of course recognizing most of the names that Molly had rattled off. He thought about what she said, processing everything, before a question popped into his mind. "So someone created us?"

"No idea," Molly shrugged, not being privy to that knowledge as it was well before her time. "The origins of people like you are shrouded in the most enigmatic of all mysteries. If I had to assume, however, I'd wager that magic itself created you in an effort to make sure that the Third Race would not rule over humanity like so many of us thirst to do, but that would just be a guess on my end."

Rory made a note that said thirst in the present tense, as if she still wished to do it, but did not bring it up, knowing that it would be a process for her to change her ways. "What of the gae bolga? And my shield and armor?" He asked, wondering where his armaments came from, presuming they weren't just a creation of destiny.

"They're all magical, but the spear was crafted by your teacher and in many ways your spiritual father, with Culann himself forging the shield and armor," Molly replied, thinking back two thousand years. There had been many people in the rise of Cu Chulainn, where each played a part, however large or small, in making the great warrior what he was.

Cu Chulainn looked at Molly, gesturing for her to continue, wanting to know more about the story. "Who was my teacher?" He finally asked after seeing that she would not expound on the matter on her own.

"An elf by the name of Lugh, who imbibed the spear with his own brand of magic, which is where its great powers come from," Molly answered, having known Lugh very well before his death in battle. "He was like me."

"And you're a member of the Third Race, part of the Aos Si, the elves of the sidhe, as well?" Rory asked, wanting to see if his memory of the cosmology of the world was truthful. He knew about gargoyles, humans, and the Third Race; he just couldn't put it all together through his memories quite yet.

"A member of the Tuatha De Danann and a Child of Oberon," Molly replied with a slight tilt of her head, agreeing with his statement. "Danu is my literal great-grandmother, whereas Oberon is simply the Lord to whom my race owes allegiance."

"Do you have any actual siblings?" Rory asked in an effort to get to know her a little more, as he only knew about her made up past as Molly, rather than her actual past. As Molly, she had informed him that she was an orphan after her parents had died, though now that he knew about her secret, he assumed that story was entirely false, made up to make her seem more human.

"I have cousins, but no siblings," Molly answered, shaking her head in the negative. "Danu had many children, each of whom became the legends and myths of Eire because Danu's home, the sidhe called Tir Na Nog, was located here. Tir Na Nog was a wellspring of natural magic, which is why Danu conquered the land and created her home there. My mother is Danu's granddaughter known as the leanan sidhe, while my father is the chief spriggan."

Rory tried to imagine what a leanan sidhe or a spriggan would look like, but he came up short, as he had no idea what Molly's true form actually was in order to help him with conjuring an image. "Show me your true form," Rory ordered, staring blankly at the girl in front of him, wanting her to drop any pretenses and show him how she truly appeared.

"No," Molly scathed, immediately shaking her head in the negative as an angered expression came upon her face. "That is deeply personal," She replied, liking it to someone asking another person to strip naked for them to see.

Rory continued to gaze at her as if he was unaffected by her pronouncement, not at all concerned with how personal his request was in her opinion. "Is it the Banshee? Or the Crom Cruach?" Rory questioned with a raised eyebrow, not relenting on the subject, knowing that it would be a sign of how serious she was to her commitment to be good.

Molly stared at him angrily, biting her bottom lip, clearly peeved by his request. She stayed silent as he continued to stare are her, apparently desiring to see her true form, no matter the cost. "Neither," Molly finally said as the silence became unbearable, before disappearing, where a ball of dull green light took its place. It was wispy, not entirely corporeal, as if a blanket had been put over a lamp, allowing you to see partial light, but not the full glare. Nonetheless, the ball of light was clearly of a green color, not unlike the color of dress that Banshee had in her usual elfin form. "We are not flesh, we are not blood, nor are we corporeal, so to speak of our true form is entirely inaccurate as we are whatever we want to be at the time." Molly said as she reappeared in her human form as the green ball disappeared. "But that, that is me at my core, without any form of transformation or glamour put over me. When I am hurt, that is the form to which I revert."

Rory stayed silent for a moment, looking at Molly before flicking his eyes over to the flames in front of him. "Do you eat?" Rory asked, as he picked up the tea kettle from off of the fire. He poured the noodles and broth into the cup that he had taken out of his bag, before looking over to Molly, asking her if she wanted any.

"Every living thing needs food," Molly replied knowingly, before continuing with, "My food is a bit different than yours, depending on my form, but as Molly I eat, yes."

Rory handed the cup of noodles and broth over to Molly, who accepted it with a small nod. He then took out another, smaller cup and poured his own meal into it, glad that he had enough for both of them. As he ate, he stared at the flames for a few moments, not really knowing what to say to express what he was feeling at that moment—it was all so confusing to him, having spent the past year disliking Molly only for her to slip back into his life in a moment. "Why did you show me that?" He finally settled on, wanting to find out why she was willing to show him after being so against it.

"I owe you for helping me," Molly answered simply, believing that she had no right to deny Rory's request due to what he had done for her not an hour prior. "While I do not consider us even just yet, I need not to go to as extreme lengths to repay you anymore."

"Understood," Rory nodded, as he took the tea kettle from the fire and poured some more of the soup into his cup. He passed it over to Molly, who also poured herself another cup, though she was not that hungry. "Like I said before, I don't remember my past yet," Rory started, stirring his soup in his cup, allowing it to cool down before he ate. "I can recall bits, pieces here and there, but nothing substantial."

"It's been two thousand years," Molly replied easily, believing that it was simply a matter of time until he could remember every detail of his previous life, though she knew not whether her belief would prove itself to be truthful or not. "It'll come."

"What happened back then? What happened to me?" Rory asked, hoping that Molly could jumpstart the process of his memories being restored in full.

Molly gave out a deep sigh, not wanting to think back to the terrible fight that the pair had on the pastoral fields of Ulster—she had barely escaped with her life. "There was a battle, and immediately after defeating me, you fought Nuada, Queen Mab's faithful warrior, and managed to kill him. He was a powerful vassal of Queen Mab, who instantly came and tried to gain revenge. After being informed of your taboos by the sisters, she slew you and turned your beast into stone. However, one of her warriors intervened before Mab could finish the deed and destroy the stone beast, and used his magic to fling the beast over the cliff into the Irish Sea, to never be seen again."

"Why would the warrior do that?" Rory questioned, not understanding why a member of the Mab's contingent would help his loyal ally out like he seemed to do. Sure, the beast may have died in the water, but at least he had a change to survive, whereas if Mab had her way, he would have died regardless.

"He was friends with the gargoyles," Molly shrugged, not really knowing why it happened, though she was able to wager a guess. "And he did not want to see one of them perish needlessly. He believed being locked in stone for all eternity was punishment enough."

"Who was this warrior?" Rory inquired, wanting to know who it was that had saved his beastly friend from certain death. Did he know him from myth? Or was it a relatively unknown member of the Third Race?

"Reynard the fox," Molly answered quietly, recalling how it had been Reynard, or Prometheus as he had been known to the Greeks, that had saved the gargoyle beast that day nearly two millennium prior. Reynard was extremely affectionate to the animals of the world, having taking the form of an anthropomorphic fox after losing the Titanomachy in order to create a new identity for himself.

"Never heard of him," Rory said, though he knew he wasn't well versed in the folklore or mythology of the world. Before Cu Chulainn returned to the world, he had thought all myths and legends were made up, stories to tell to pass the time, not epics that were based on real life facts like he had come to learn.

"As well you shouldn't, he was basically Mab's court jester, he never stepped foot in Ireland before then," Molly replied with a hint of laughter in her voice, knowing that Reynard had been a clown up until he turned against Mab and joined with her son. "He was nearly killed for his treachery, but a series of events led to him regaining his name when Oberon rebelled and dethroned his mother. He is one of the most intelligent of us all."

They both went silent for a few moments, Molly not really wanting to talk, and Rory going over everything that he had just heard. "Do you have a real name?" Rory finally asked, intrigued by the prospect of learning more about the woman in front of him. Did she have a life outside of being the Banshee or was being the Banshee all she knew?

"Molly is fine," Molly replied, not wanting to divulge the name that many in her clan called her, at least those closest to her and knew her name: Cliodhna. "I've grown accustomed to it while in this form."

Rory nodded solemnly, before getting off the stone and lying on the ground, getting comfortable in an effort to get some sleep. "Put out the fire when you go to sleep, goodnight," He said, rolling over and using his green sweatshirt as a blanket as he tried to rest for the long journey ahead of them.

"Aye," Molly whispered, as she continued to stare down into the fire, losing herself in the flames. She did not know how long she sat there thinking about her life, but the moon was high in the sky when she finally went to bed, her mind dreaming about the man across from her, though she dared not admit it.


	2. The Spell of Avalon

Gargoyles: The Ulster Heroes Rise

Disclaimer: I don't own it, but Disney and Greg Weisman do.

Summary: Bound by Oberon's curse, the Banshee seeks out the one person she hopes can help her, but that person is the one she betrayed the most. Will he help her? Or will he allow himself to be ruled by his anger?

A/N: This is just a long one-shot consisting of two chapters telling how I think Molly and Rory came back together and how they started on their adventures together.

Part 2: The Spell of Avalon

The next morning, Rory was already packing up his things when Molly awoke, having slept in her human form, which needed more substantial rest than she did as the Banshee. As she yawned groggily, she got to her feet, dusting off the dirt from her jeans with her hands and pulled down her shirt to cover her stomach. "I was wondering when you would wake," Rory muttered, as he finished up and was fully prepared to leave. He slung his bag over his shoulder and turned towards the path in front of them, gesturing for her to follow him with a nod of his head.

"Where are we going?" Molly questioned as she used the back of her hands to rub her eyes. She reached up to the sky and stretched, her back cracking all the while as she tried to wake herself up for the journey that was ahead.

"Did you forget already? We're going to find my hound," Rory said with a small smile, truly believing that his hound was out there somewhere waiting for him. "If I've been reborn, it stands to reason he's out there too."

"Maybe," Molly whispered, skeptical of his assessment of the situation. Two thousand years was a long time for a gargoyle beast, much too long to still be alive under natural circumstances, so unless something magical happened, she knew the hound was probably dead and had been for centuries.

"But first I have to go see my dad," Rory said, patting his pocket, as if he had something in there for the older man. Once Molly had fully awoken and the shadow of grogginess left her face, they began walking at a quicker pace, Rory in the lead with Molly just behind him, a perpetual neutral expression on her face as she followed. "So I have a question for you."

"What about?" Molly answered, still a bit stiff, having not slept in human form in over a year. As the Banshee, she slept in her natural form and only needed a few minutes to feel fresh and recharged, unlike her human one, which needed hours just to be able to function properly.

"How do you know so much about people like me? You were naming names last night that aren't related to Irish myth," Rory replied, wanting to know where Molly received all of her information in the off chance that it would allow him to learn more about himself.

"What do you think I was doing for two thousand years?" Molly answered sarcastically, revealing how much time she spent thinking about Cu Chulainn. "I was trying to find your reincarnation, so I traveled the world, searching for people like you."

Rory shifted his gaze over to her, realizing for the first time just how much time had passed since his first death as Cu Chulainn to when he was finally reincarnated. "And you found all of them?"

"Some, yes, the rest I learned about through their deeds," Molly answered, with a slight tilt of her head. Silently, Rory nodded next to her, having mixed emotions about the Banshee's desire to find him like that. On one hand he understood it, as their lives were intertwined, their destinies intermingling on a lot of levels; on the other, however, he knew it was a sign of her obsession with getting revenge, which was not something he wanted her to be thinking about now that she had turned over a new leaf. Shaking his head, Rory upped the pace, knowing that they still had a ways to go until they reached their destination.

They trekked for what seemed to be hours, through small towns and large patches of open green fields, but before long, they arrived outside of a small brick house, the home in which Rory had grown up and had lived until leaving to battle the evils of the country months prior. Rory gave two quick knocks on the chipped wooden door, before taking a step back, wearing a happy expression on his face, excited to see his father once more. Further back, Molly stood with her arms crossed in front of her, inwardly wondering how long it had been since Rory had last seen his father. While the pair had never really seen eye to eye, she knew Mr. Dugan's dislike of her was because he felt she was bringing Rory down, a fact that ended up being quite true from a certain perspective.

The door swung open to reveal a tall, late middle-aged man with receding brown hair and a thick brown beard. His dark eyes met his son's, before a broad smile appeared on his face and he rushed towards the younger boy. "Rory!" The man exclaimed, enveloping his son in a hug, happy that the boy had finally returned after being gone for so long.

"Good to see you, dad," Rory said honestly, returning his father's embrace. While they had a tense relationship in the past, due in part to Mr. Dugan not wanting Rory to follow in his foot steps of failure, ever since Rory had accepted his role as the reincarnated Cu Chulainn, their relationship had become much better, one built upon mutual understanding and, in some ways, respect for each other.

"Come in, come in," Mr. Dugan offered, gesturing to the home that laid just beyond the doorway. Rory agreed with a smile and took his steps inside, with Molly nodding her head to Mr. Dugan as she walked in behind him.

"Does your father know about you?" Molly whispered as she took a seat next to Rory on the couch, Mr. Dugan having gone into the kitchen to pitch a plate of biscuits and a kettle of tea.

"Yes," Rory nodded in the affirmative, thinking back to the day that he revealed to his father his secret. While his father was skeptical at first, he had accepted it straight away once Rory had shown him his transformation, an action that elicited a round of questioning that Rory was happy to answer. "I told him a few weeks after learning about it myself. I needed someone to talk about it with and you weren't here..."

Molly bit her lip, not really knowing how to respond. She heard the tone that Rory had used, it was one of pain, one that showed he was still bitter about her betrayal of him, which was an emotion from him that she didn't quite understand how to handle just yet. "Does he know about me?" She questioned, wanting to know if Rory had informed his father that she was the Banshee and had attacked him or if Mr. Dugan was ignorant about the series of events that had transpired between the pair.

Before Rory could answer, however, Mr. Dugan returned to the room with the tray of cookies and a small tea kettle. "It's good to see you, Molly, it's been a while. I thought this Cu Chulainn thing may have scared you off." Mr. Dugan said pleasantly as he placed the tray down onto the coffee table, willing to give the woman a chance now that Rory had a goal and something to follow in his life. Perhaps, he inwardly reasoned with himself, with Rory on the right track, he'd be able to help Molly find her way, as well.

Molly looked over to Rory, who shook his head, not wanting her to say anything. "It's good to see you, too, sir," Molly lied, putting a smile on her face, falling easily into the act of being Molly. "I was detained, that's why you haven't seen me."

"I see, I see," Mr. Dugan said, assuming she meant detained by the Guard, having no knowledge of Molly being the human identity of the Banshee. "I was hoping it wasn't the Cu Chulainn revelation that pushed you away; as I had always told Rory that he had heroes in his veins and knew it was only a matter of time until he realized that." Mr. Dugan laughed, taking a sip of his tea, enjoying the fact that his own son was a hero. "So what brings you two home?"

"To give you this," Rory replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small pouch filled with money. He handed it over to his father with a smile on his face, happy that he could finally help pay the bills and give his father the life he deserved.

"Son..." Mr. Dugan started awkwardly, embarrassed to accept such a gift. While it was true that he had been on the dole for quite a while, nearly a decade if not a little more, he was not one to accept a monetary offer from anyone, let alone from his only child-his pride as a Dugan was much too great for that.

"Take it, dad, no buts," Rory implored, not willing to take it back. He had earned it for his father, not for himself, so if his father did not want it, then it would go unused. However, after a few lingering moments of thought, his father accepted it with a grateful nod, earning a smile from Rory, happy to be able to help out his father's financial burdens. "Also, I wanted to say goodbye."

"What?" Mr. Dugan said quickly, looking up at his son, the pouch of money forgotten in an instant. "Where are you going?"

"I have to find my hound," Rory answered, informing his father on his plan to reunite with his famous ally of legend, the Hound of Ulster. While he could fight evil without his hound, and had over the past year, he knew in order to truly make a difference, he needed to find his ally; he needed to be made whole in order to take on the toughest of challenges that were in front of him. "I have no idea where he is, so Molly and I are going to look for him. I don't know how long it will take, but I wanted to make sure you knew what I was doing."

"I'm coming with you," Mr. Dugan said in a resolute tone, rising to his feet in order to begin packing a bag. He was not going to sit and watch as his son left his life; that wasn't the type of person that he was-instead, he would be right next to Rory in the adventure, doing whatever he could to help.

"No, it's too dangerous," Rory opined while shaking his head in the negative, not allowing his father to even think about coming. "There will be villains out to get us, evil out to stop us, dangers out to hurt us that I cannot risk your safety."

"Yet you let Molly in?" Mr. Dugan replied disbelievingly, moving his gaze back and forth between Molly and Rory, not understanding how Rory could allow Molly to go but not his own father. While he knew that Molly was a tough woman, capable of taking care of herself, as well as the fact that she was much younger than he was, she was still a human without the special powers of being a reincarnated hero in his view, making them equal in many respects, so to be willing to include her but not him seemed strange to him.

"Molly is part of my world," Rory replied easily, still trying to avoid telling his father Molly's secret. He feared that by letting his father in on more of his world, the world that he himself was just entering again, he put his father at risk, which was something he desperately wanted to prevent. "She can protect herself. You could get hurt on the other hand. Plus," He added, before his father could reply, hoping to stem any counterargument that the man may present. "Like I said, we have no idea how long this will take."

"How can Molly protect herself any better than I can?" Mr. Dugan scathed, not understanding what made Molly more capable than him. "And the length of time matters not, I have nothing keeping me here. You're all I have in this world, Rory, where you are is my home. Once your mother passed, it has always just been you."

Seeing that Rory's father wouldn't let up on his argument, Molly knew she had to step in and reveal at least part of her secret. "Should I show him?" Molly asked, studying Rory's reaction, wanting to see what he thought on the matter.

"Show me what?" Mr. Dugan replied confusedly, as he stared at Molly with a cocked eyebrow. What could Molly be alluding to that would help him understand why Rory would invite her along and not him?

"I guess so," Rory sighed in a defeated tone, admitting that he would have to inform his father about Molly's secret, going against his desire to keep his father ignorant about the Third Race. With his father insisting on coming, in order to keep his father safe at home, he needed to reveal Molly's secret, an ironic twist to the plan he had coming into the situation.

Mr. Dugan looked on at the pair with confusion in his eyes, not understanding what they were talking about. His attention was drawn to the female of the pair, where with a flash of light, Molly was gone, and out appeared an ethereal woman, with long purple hair, pale blue skin, violet lips, glowing white eyes and a tattered green dress. She was tall and gaunt, and underneath her hair, one could just see the beginnings of elvish ears, hidden by the shock of purple hair that was worn straight and fell to the small of her back. Her fingers were long and claw-like, while her feet were without shoes or any form of protection and instead completely bare to the elements. She lingered in that form for just a moment, allowing Mr. Dugan to get just a small look at her, before returning to a human with another flash of light, taking on the human appearance of Molly once more.

"What the..?" Mr. Dugan shrieked with wide eyes, somewhat fearfully. He made to move back, but tripped over the chair and fell back down into his seat. He sat there for a few moments, his breathing heavy as his heart raced, his gaze never leaving Molly, inwardly trying to figure out what he had just seen.

"Don't be scared, dad," Rory said softly, leaning closer to his father, hoping to calm the older man's nerves. He knew that it would be quick shocking to see for the first time, as he recalled his fright at seeing a gargoyle beast the first time those many months prior. "She is not here to hurt you."

"I owe a debt your son," Molly informed Mr. Dugan, hoping to instill into him that she was not a danger to them in anyway until the debt she owed Rory was repaid at the very least. "Hurting his kin is not something that will repay that debt, I don't imagine. The debt is transferred onto you until it is served, whomever it is that I end up repaying."

Mr. Dugan continued to stare at Molly, his brows furrowed as he looked upon her with caution. Eventually, he flicked his eyes to his son, as he silently weighed everything that Rory had said. "That just makes up my mind even more, I'm coming with you," Mr. Dugan clapped, giving Molly another suspicious look, though he was not as concerned with her as he had been moments before due to her declaration.

"But..." Rory started, hoping to make one last ditch effort in dissuading his father from wanting to come.

"No buts, Rory," Mr. Dugan interrupted, repeating what Rory had said to him just moments before, hoping to hammer down the fact that it was not an argument. Rising to his feet, he walked out of the living room and across the hallway, entering his bedroom in an effort to gather his things to leave.

"That did not go as planned," Rory sighed, plopping back down onto the couch to wait for his father. Accepting his father's demand, he just hoped that he would be able to protect his father from whatever dangers they came across as failure was not an option.

"You can protect him easier with him around you," Molly suggested, hoping to show Rory the bright side of the sudden turn of events. With his father near him all the time, he would be able to use his abilities to make sure the man was safe, whereas if his father was stuck at home, an evil might attack him away from Cu Chulainn's guard and Rory would not be any wiser for it.

"I'm not afraid of him getting hurt like that," Rory admitted, informing Molly of his real fears about having his father around. "What I'm afraid of is that he's going to want to protect me and get himself hurt in the process or even that I'm going to be so distracted by his presence and wanting to keep him safe that I get us both hurt."

Meanwhile, had just grabbed his backpack from under his bed. He rushed over to the bureau that was in the corner and threw in some clothes, before going to the nightstand and grabbing a few small personal items that he wanted to bring. As he was nearing completion, he walked over to his closet, before reaching into the back, where he pulled out a small, wooden lockbox. He took out a bronze key from his pocket and unlocked the lockbox to reveal a revolver and an iron dagger that had a leather sheath with Celtic carvings upon it. The revolver was his father's from the second World War, with the dagger meanwhile being an heirloom that had been handed down on his mother's side of the family for generations, a relic from the historical heritage that he had tried to educate Rory on, but had failed in that endeavor prior to Rory learning about his Cu Chulainn past. His mother had always told him that their bloodline was old and important, had told him the stories of the great fairies of the past, a fact that he believed even before learning about Rory's abilities. Shaking his head, he grabbed the revolver and the dagger, placing them both in his bag and slinging his bag over his shoulder, before walking back out to the kitchen and grabbing some supplies.

Eventually, after everyone was packed, the trio was walking out of the house, each not knowing what to expect about the adventure that was to come. After Mr. Dugan locked the front door of his home, he turned and walked to Rory and Molly, each of whom were waiting for him off to the side, talking quietly amongst themselves. "Where are we going?"

"We don't actually know," Rory replied with a bit of a laugh, fully aware of the craziness of it all. "Fate will deliver us to where we need to be and where we can find my hound, and when it does, the evil of Ireland should be scared for then I will have all I need to extinguish it."

"You really have no idea where you need to go?" Mr. Dugan said in a somewhat exasperated tone, perplexed as to what Rory intended if he had no idea where he needed to be in order to accomplish his goal.

"Nope," Rory smiled, excited by the adventure that such a quest presented. It was like a quest of old, a vestige of a time long since past, a time where heroes roamed the land such as King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. "I've already searched the most obvious places like Cairn na Cullain, the ruins of the ancient Irish Clan's home, Dealga, Navan Fort and other various spots of antiquity, but he has not been in any of those places."

"Are you sure he's still alive?" Mr. Dugan inquired, wondering what it was that made his son think his dog from the past was still alive in the present world. In his mind, a human being reincarnated was one thing, but having a dog reincarnated was another thing that fell beyond his ability to believe.

"If I am, he will be," Rory grunted, truly believing in that fact. He didn't know how he knew, but he could feel deeply inside of him that his hound was out there, waiting for him to find him, waiting for them to be reunited once more. "We'll find him."

"How?" Mr. Dugan asked, not knowing if they would be able to search the entire country for the hound as Rory seemed to want to do. There were enough places from Ireland's past that the search would take a lifetime, and that was only considering the island of Ireland, let alone places in Great Britain, as well.

"Use Avalon," Molly suggested flippantly as they walked, before she paused upon realizing what she said. It had slipped out unintentionally, and if she could take it back, she probably would, not wanting Rory to actually take her up on her suggestion.

"What do you mean?" Rory questioned, wanting to know how Avalon would be able to help them in their quest. He knew that Avalon was magical, but he had no idea it had such powers as Molly's words implied.

"Forget it," Molly said, shaking her head in the negative.

"No, no, tell me," Rory prodded, giving her a questioning glance. If Molly knew of a way to make their quest easier, he was all ears, and if Avalon could help them, why would she not be willing to tell them about it if she truly was trying to be good?

Molly looked over to Rory, her expression neutral. "Avalon sends you where you need to be when you leave its domain," She answered, inwardly flinching at the thought of using Avalon, but also knowing that it would be their only chance. She knew that she risked Oberon finding her just by mentioning it, but she couldn't allow Rory or his father to toil away their lives on a never-ending quest like Rory seemed to intend on doing.

"Avalon? The island of apples exists?" Mr. Dugan exclaimed in a surprised tone, having never anticipated that an island from myth would be real. He could understand reincarnated heroes, fairies, maybe even magic, but not whole islands that were hidden from the world. That, to him, was much too difficult to fathom, and he realized that his eyes would be opened wider than he ever intended them to be on the adventure the trio were just beginning.

"It is the home of the Third Race," Rory replied, furrowing his brows in thought. _How did I know that? In fact, how did I know about Avalon in the first place?_ He questioned to himself, wondering if his memories were starting to return just as Molly had said they would.

"The Third Race?" Mr. Dugan asked once more, feeling lost and useless. The stories that his mother had told him as a child were quickly running dry, as his imagination was being forced to fill in the blanks until he knew about the magical world more.

"Yes, the elves of the mist, the fair folk, the Tuatha de Danu, the Aos Si, the people of the sidhe, the Children of Oberon," Rory answered, rattling off the various names that Ireland had for the Third Race in the hopes that his father would recognize at least one of the terms. "It's what Molly, Banshee is; it's her race."

"You're the Banshee?" Mr. Dugan gasped, as he instinctively took a step away from Molly, as if the short distance would prevent her from attacking him. He couldn't help but be curious as to why Rory was okay with having the Banshee around him, knowing the history that the two shared in his past life as Cu Chulainn.

"Yes," Molly grunted, giving a small smirk at Mr. Dugan's reaction. The fear that people had of her gave her a sense of pleasure, a fact that she was just beginning to realize was one of her issues. "But I'm not here to hurt you or call out your death."

"What is this Third Race exactly?" Mr. Dugan questioned, looking between Rory and Molly, hoping for some more clear answers. "This Oberon, is he your father?"

"No, we are not his biological children, though he does have two of them; Tanaquil, more commonly known as Gloriana, is the daughter of Oberon and Titania, and the Princess of Fairies," Molly answered, hoping to stem any more questions regarding Oberon after the conversation by giving them more information than they need. She feared that by lingering on her heritage and her home would bring questions that would alert her presence off of Avalon to the Third Race, which was something she did not want to do as it would create more problems for her. "And then there is Elegast, the Green Knight, also known to humans as the Green Man or Bredbeddle or Bertilak or Viridius, he is the son of Oberon and Titania, and the Prince of the Elves."

"They're magical folk, the fair folk of legend," Rory supplied, ignoring his father's reaction of fear for the time being. He knew that it had more to do with the shock of learning it all, rather than actual fear of Molly, which gave him the necessary time to figure everything for himself out first.

"What's the difference between elves and fairies?" Mr. Dugan again asked, having never known there to be a difference between the pair. To him, they were both just wee folk that had magical powers, no matter if one called them a fairies or elves or pixies.

"While it's not as clear as this, elves tend to be more physical, like warriors, while fairies are ethereal and esoteric, with powers to inspire and bequeath emotion," Molly answered in a bored manner, finding the conversation tedious. "Gloriana was the first born, hence her title. Each of us has a different sort of magic that comes more naturally to us; elves tend to be brutish with marshal magic coming to them easier, while fairies are more abstract. The Green Knight himself is champion of the forests, and has a cadre of nature spirits and pillywiggins in his employ, beings that I'm positive you've heard about."

"So in other words, not all members of the Third Race have the same powers and abilities?" Rory asked, earning a slight nod of Molly's head. "I'm starting to remember that now."

"It's a feudal system, with each clan or kind of fair folk being ruled by their leader, who reports to Lord Oberon," Molly enumerated, informing the two humans how Avalon worked when it came to how Oberon ruled over such powerful beings. "Avalon is the one that invented the system, actually, with humanity copying it during the middle ages."

"So then how do we get there? Avalon, I mean," Rory asked, changing the topic in order to progress in their journey. He saw that his father had more questions for Molly, but he knew that there would be plenty of time to ask them once they actually started their journey.

"Find a boat, say the spell, and it'll bring you," Molly replied with a shrug, knowing that it was easier in theory than it was in practice. Their first problem would be finding a boat, she knew, as there weren't very many just sitting around, especially ones that they could steal without anyone noticing.

"Bring us, you mean," Rory corrected, wanting to make sure she was still planning on changing her ways. He didn't want her to bail out so early and not make an effort on the promise she made to become good the night before.

"I cannot come, I will meet you when you make landing," responded Molly, knowing that if she were to return to Avalon, she would surely be caught and forced to stay there or worse, be banished without the use of her powers just as Puck had been, a fate that was much worse than death to her.

"Why not?" Rory asked in a confused tone, not understanding what the big deal would be. What was her reasoning for not coming, when she herself had suggested the action?

"I just can't, okay?" Molly growled, earning a chuckle from Rory as he continued to push her buttons. She turned her attention away from him as she stared off into the distance, unwilling to allow him to see her emotions.

"Okay, okay," Rory nodded with a smile, accepting that answer for now, correctly assuming that it related to the enemy she feared would attack. "Well, there's a stream about twenty minutes from here, maybe we could scout out a boat around there?"

"You know, there's an old, decrepit skiff on the shores of the pond in the park, maybe we can use that," Mr. Dugan suggested, having seen the boat he was describing not a day prior, when he went on his daily walk to stay in shape. "It was one of the old boats that the village rented out before the factory closed."

"Will it float?" Rory questioned his father, hoping that the boat wasn't in too bad of shape. He knew they didn't need a yacht, but something that floated was necessary, he believed.

"I'll make it float," Molly interjected, willing to use her magic to make sure the boat would stay afloat for them to use. With a simple spell, she was confident that she could transform the boat into as good of shape as it was when it was new. While spells were not her forte, she was capable of performing them so long as she had her voice, which fortunately had been returned to her due to Rory's actions the night prior.

"I guess we can check it out," Rory nodded, turning around and walking towards the pond that stood on the opposite side of the town. After the short walk through the town, where Molly had received looks from many a passersby that had not seen her in close to a year, they arrived at the pond, where they found the decrepit wooden skiff that held about six to seven people. "Yeah, this isn't going to float on its own." Rory said immediately, noticing how half of the hull was cracked and the other parts had small termite holes.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and Molly was gone, in her place the Banshee reappeared. "Wooden hull of haggard norm, change thyself to perfect form," Banshee chanted, her eyes glowing white as the boat changed and transformed, with the holes and cracks disappearing and a new hull taking shape. Additionally, there were now two oars inside the boat, conjured through Banshee's magic, which would allow the travelers to propel themselves through the water.

"That was incredible," Mr. Dugan whispered, surprised by the awesome display of power that Banshee had shown. Shaking his head in a mix of confusion and astonishment, Mr. Dugan helped Rory push the boat into the lake, with both hopping into it as it jerked off the shore.

"What do we do now?" Rory called out as he looked back at the land, hoping that Banshee would help them further. "Do we just keep paddling and Avalon will suddenly appear?"

"You have to say the spell," Banshee returned loudly, knowing that they would simply cross to the other side of the pond unless they announced the magical intonation that would bring them to Avalon. "The spell will bring you to the island, then you simply leave it's waters and Avalon will send you where you need to be."

"Which is?" Rory prodded, inwardly knowing that she would have to come in order for it to work. He knew that she was hiding something from him, knew that there was something that she wasn't telling him, but he didn't push it, fully aware and confident that it would come in time. Instead, he focused his attention on making her truly try to become good, to become someone that did the honorable thing, the right thing, even if was not the easy course of action.

Banshee looked at him with her white gaze, and then sighed when she realized they wouldn't be able to do it without her. With a flash, she appeared in the boat next to them, becoming Molly once more. Using human magic for the first time in her life, she started the chant that would grant them all passageway to Avalon, having overheard the chant that day a year prior when Goliath and the rest had left Ireland. As she started the spell, she was inwardly hoping that she was not signing her death warrant with her words, knowing full well how much she risked by going back to Avalon. "Vocati venti fortunate et ricae Oberonis; et hic navis frugum regate ad orae Avalonis!"

In an instant, a great fog overcame their boat: they could not see the shores of pond anymore, having been completely enveloped by the magic of the island. There was a barge in front of them, large and made of wood, stationed in the water as if it was a door to the great island that loomed behind it. Quickly, Molly ordered them to turn around and leave, not finding it necessary to cross over into Avalon proper, but instead simply use the magic to bounce back into the mortal world. Rory and his father did as they were told, paddling as quickly as they could, and with that, they disappeared once more into the great fogs of Avalon, never knowing that it was their first step into the grandest adventure of their life.

It was the beginning of a journey where they would meet loyal allies, foster close friendships, craft amazing memories, and yes, make new enemies. They would experience strange phenomena, travel to incredible places, and come to know both mythological and fictional characters that would prove to be very much real. However, after their trek was completed, they would one day return to Ireland, their endeavor even more successful than Rory could ever dream it to be. Upon their return to Ireland, they would have a larger family, a new home, a greater life, and most importantly, clarity of mission that would allow them to fulfill their own destinies. They would return and become the Heroes of Ulster.

A/N: Well, that's it for this story. I may write their continuing travels, I have nearly all of their travels planned, so keep a look out for that in the future. Either way, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, Happy Holiday, and a Happy New Year. Thanks for reading.


	3. The Cry of the Bell-Ringer

**Gargoyles: The Ulster Heroes Rise**

Disclaimer: I don't own it, but Disney and Greg Weisman do.

Summary: Bound by Oberon's curse, the Banshee seeks out the one person she hopes can help her, but that person is the one she betrayed the most. Will he help her? Or will he allow himself to be ruled by his anger?

A/N: This is just a long one-shot consisting of chapters telling how I think Molly and Rory came back together and how they started on their adventures together.

**Part 3: The Cry of the Bell-ringer**

They arrived in a fog as they bumped up against the side of a river. "Where are we?" Rory questioned, not recognizing his surroundings. In the distance, he could hear a bustling metropolis, but due to the supposed nature of Avalon, they could be three thousand miles away from where they once were.

"I think we're in Scotland," Mr. Dugan replied, pointing up to where they could just make out the sight of a castle. "Edinburgh, if I'm not much mistaken."

"Edinburgh?" Rory exclaimed, surprised that the use of Avalon worked as Molly had promised. "Why here?" He asked, more to himself, but still wondering if either had an opinion on the matter.

"Avalon brings you were you need to be, not where you want to be," Molly reminded, taking a step out of the boat as it came to a stop against the riverbed.

"So what is here for you then?" Mr. Dugan questioned, taking Rory's hand and pulling himself out of the boat and onto the shore.

"Let's go look," Rory shrugged, as they pulled the boat out of the water and started up the dirt path that led to a road a few yards away.

Upon reaching the road, they noticed that it was later than it had been in Ireland, as if the journey had taking a few hours when it seemed like mere minutes to them. They all looked both ways, trying to figure out where to go, before Rory made a decision and started to walk towards the center of the city, knowing that whatever it was they were there for would most likely be there.

It was a short walk, but eventually, they arrived in the center of the town, where they saw the Edinburgh Castle hovering above them on Castle Rock. Rory furrowed his brow as a thought popped into his mind, and he quickly realized that he needed to do something before he could figure out why it was that Avalon had sent them there. "Go to that cafe and grab something to eat, I'll be right back," He said, gesturing to a café that was a little ways down the street.

"Where are you going?" Mr. Dugan questioned confusedly, not understanding why his son was leaving so quickly.

"I have to talk to something," Rory shouted, as he ran off into the distance, heading in the direction of Edinburgh castle.

"Did he say talk to something?" Mr. Dugan asked, looking over to Molly, who just nodded her head in agreement. "Doesn't he mean someone?"

Meanwhile, Rory quickly made his way up the hill until he arrived in front of the entrance to the castle. He sneaked into the middle of a tour group, not paying the entrance fee, and feigned interest as the group started to make its way around the castle. He waited patiently until they reached the throne room, when he quietly snuck away, going over to the stone in the center of the room in order to ask the question that was on his mind. "Lia Fail?" He said, awkwardly, not really knowing whether or not the stone would respond. While he knew the stone was sentient and capable of speech, the only times he had actually seen the stone at work was during coronations, a far cry from the spot he found himself in.

"The mighty Cu Chulainn," The stone said, glowing a dull blue as it spoke. "My old nemesis..."

"I'm sorry," Rory laughed, recalling the time that he had split the stone in anger when the stone refused to name his friend king of Ireland. "I lost my temper, I should not have done that."

"It matters not, I am simply the channel for the Spirit of Destiny, the size of the stone is of no consequence," the stone replied, Rory imagining the stone shrugging all the while. Then, adding, the Stone said, "Nor do I need possession of my original vessel."

Rory furrowed his brow in confusion at the sudden announcement by the stone, not really understanding what the stone meant. "What do you mean?"

"I am not the stone you split, as that has been taken by the Illuminati," The Stone informed him, telling him of the fact that few on Earth knew. "I speak only for a short time, only to inform of this development."

"What are you saying?" Rory questioned, sensing the tone in the stone's voice-it was one of distraction, as if he was in a rush to get through all that he needed to say, though Rory did not understand why.

"Continue on the path that you intend, it will lead you," The Stone replied, reinforcing Rory's ideas that he needed to find his beast in order to truly help those around him. "Goodbye until we meet again, Cu Chulainn."

"Lia Fail?" Rory asked, hoping the stone would respond, but the sinking feeling in his chest told him that it was not likely. "Stone of Destiny?" He said once more, but like before, he received no answer. Shaking his head and throwing the stone one last look, he turned and left the throne room, inwardly confused about the experience. He couldn't help but ponder what the Stone had said, though he was happy that he had heard at least a portion of what he wanted, in the fact that if he continued down the path he had set, he would get what he wanted in the end.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rory said as he distractedly bumped into a tall, stout man with white hair as they each went different ways-Rory was leaving the castle, while the other man was just entering.

"Not a problem," The other man replied in a thick Scottish brogue, not at all offended by the contact. "We all have our distractions."

"Thanks, have a good day," Rory nodded, looking up at the man and noticing how powerfully built he was, even in his older age.

"Same to you," The man said with a smile as he entered the castle, going down the hallway that would lead to the throne room that Rory had just exited.

Walking down the hill into the city of Edinburgh proper, Rory continued to think about the stone as he headed towards the street he left his father and Molly, trying to decipher if there was a hidden message in what the Stone had said. Sighing, he entered the cafe that he had told the pair to go into, making a quick search with gaze and seeing that they were sitting in the back, both apparently not talking to the other. He didn't know exactly why, it could have been his father's distrust of Molly after finding out she was the Banshee, but there was a frost between the two that prevented them from really connecting, He hoped that it would thaw in time, especially since they were on this adventure, but he didn't know how quickly that thawing would come.

"Where did you go?" Mr. Dugan questioned in a worried tone, having been concerned for his son's safety.

"To talk to the Stone of Scone," Rory answered, giving a small smile and a shrug to his father, knowing exactly how absurd the idea sounded.

"Talk?" Mr. Dugan inquired slowly, wanting to make sure he heard his son correctly.

"It's magical, it talks," Rory nodded, grinning all the while. He knew that they would all experience things on this adventure that they thought not possible, with his father especially being less experienced in the strange unknown.

"What did it say?" Molly asked, curious as to what he learned from the stone. She was well aware of the stone's magic, having witnessed the Lia Fail crown a couple of kings herself back in ancient times.

"That we're on the right path," Rory replied, shifting his gaze to the woman with magenta hair. "I take that to mean that so long as we follow along with our plan, we'll find all that we're searching for, eventually." Seeing that his father just had some tea, he did not bother to sit next to them, instead he gestured to the door in an effort to get back to their travels as quickly as they could. "Want to get going?"

"Don't you have to do what Avalon sent you here to do?" Mr. Dugan asked, presuming that Avalon sent them there for a reason if Molly's information was to be taken literally.

"I already have," Rory replied confidently, knowing that he was sent to speak to the stone and learn that the stone had been taken. "I was sent to talk to the stone, I did that."

"You sure?" Mr. Dugan checked, not wanting to leave without doing the duty that Avalon had sent them to do. He didn't know much about the world of magic and wonder, but he knew about honor, and not seeing through all that needed to be done was just tempting fate to

"Positive," Rory agreed with a quick nod of his head. "It hit me when I looked up at the castle, it makes perfect sense and the conversation I had with the stone just proves it."

"If that's your wish," Mr. Dugan nodded, rising from his chair and gathering his things. He put a few coins and bill onto the table, and started to walk out of the café, Rory and Molly following closely behind him.

They walked the mile or two it was back to the boat, and they saw upon arriving back at their boat, it was still there in perfect condition, luckily. Mr. Dugan and Molly both entered it, while Rory pushed them off of the riverbed before jumping into it himself. Mr. Dugan paddled a few times, and after Molly said the spell, they were enveloped by the fog of Avalon once more, traveling to a distant place just as they had before.

Eventually, they found their boat running into a tall brick wall, covered in ivy. There was a bridge not ten feet in front of them, allowing them to hide their boat in the shadows that it created. Meanwhile, hovering high above them was a gothic cathedral, illuminated in the moonlight

"Notre Dame?" Mr. Dugan whispered with his eyes wide, recognizing the cathedral instantly. He had always wanted to see the famous Parisian icon, but up until that point in his life, he had never been outside of Ireland except for the few times he was able to cross the sound and visit Great Britain. "You think your hound is in Paris?"

"It might make sense," Rory muttered, biting his lip in thought. From what he knew about Paris, and especially Notre Dame, there were tons of gargoyle and grotesque statues around, ones that could certainly be a real gargoyle locked in their stone sleep. "Notre Dame is known for their gargoyles..."

They all climbed up the wall, Mr. Dugan having a tougher time than Rory and Molly, and then headed towards the cathedral known as Notre Dame, which was about a hundred yards away. It was dark and late, so when they reached the entrance, they were unsurprised that it was locked. There was a flash of light, and Molly transformed into the Banshee, showing her more common magical form once more. With her eyes glowing, she put her hand on the doorway and there was a loud clank, as the lock preventing their entry came undone. She paused for a second, looking around as a noise rang through her ears, though she didn't know where it originated. Shaking her head, she moved to the side and allowed Rory to pass, noticing that the two humans in her company did not seem to hear the noise themselves.

"Handy to have around," Rory grinned, throwing open the doors and entering the cathedral. Mr. Dugan closed the door behind him, not wanting any unnecessary suspicion when it was a simple thing to do.

Fortunately, there was no one in the main room, so they quietly made their way around the cathedral, before leaving and walking to the tower entrance on the side of the building. As she walked, the sound was ebbing and flowing, getting louder and softer depending on how close or far she was to the building. Upon reached the tower entrance on the side, the Banshee again opened the door for them, and they made their way up to the top of the tower, where Banshee started to hear a faint cry, though like before, neither Rory or Mr. Dugan heard it for themselves. It became more and more powerful as they circled around the gargoyles, though she knew not where it came from.

Rory, not knowing there was anything wrong, continued searching the gargoyles, trying to see if any of them was his beast. However, to his chagrin, they were man-made gargoyles and were not alive, unlike the various gargoyles that were truly sentient beings. "Darn," He sighed, turning his gaze over to the others. Seeing Molly's face, he knew something was wrong. "What is it?"

"You don't hear it, I assume?" Molly replied, furrowing her brow in thought as she moved around, searching for the source of the noise.

"Hear what?" Mr. Dugan questioned, studying the area, not hearing anything other than the traffic noise below.

"It's a magical cry," Banshee informed them, as she began walking around the top of the tower, seeing the various gargoyles that were carved in stone. "But it's not coming from one of them," She said with a furrowed brow, gesturing to the gargoyles, admitting that it was not the cry of Rory's hound as she had hoped. "Instead..."

"How can you hear something we don't?" Mr. Dugan asked confusedly, not understanding the magical world at all. While he did believe in the supernatural or the mystical, many things still came as a shock to him, having never imagined that certain things ever existed.

"I have the ability to hear the cry of those who are dead, damned, or desperate, which allows me to predict a person's death," Molly admitted, revealing something about her powers that not many in the world knew. Her abilities made her a minor death goddess, one that was able to sense and predict a person's death before it happened, but who was relatively limited outside of that.

Rory watched as she walked to the far side of the tower and turned to a small alcove, where there was a patch of dark stone in the shape of an arch. She waved her hand, as if dispelling something, before a wooden door appeared from out of nowhere. She opened the door, magically unlocking it, to reveal a large, disfigured man, chained to the wall with iron chains. His back was hunched, his right eye was swollen shut. Rory quickly rushed to him, hoping the man was all right. "Are you okay?" He questioned, though he did not receive a response.

He looked over to Banshee, who stayed back, not daring to enter the room as she immediately noticed that it was covered in iron pieces, a trap for a member of the Third Race. Rory unchained his right arm and leg, while his father unchained the man's left side. Immediately after unchaining him, Rory transformed in Cu Chulainn and carried the man outside, laying him down on the floor next to the doorway to the tower. "Merci," The man finally whispered, though his eyes were still closed and he did not make to move.

With a flash of light, Cu Chulainn returned back into his normal form. "Do you speak English?" Rory asked, recognizing the French the man spoke and hoping that he would be able to communicate with him in return. "I don't speak French, I'm sorry."

"You're speaking it right now, friend," The man replied, opening his left eye to get a look at Rory as he hovered over him.

"I am? But how?" Rory said, looking over to Banshee, who just shrugged. "Are you okay? What happened? Who trapped you in there?"

"I've been in there for over seventy years," The man returned slowly, using his arms to push himself against the wall so he could see them better. "Since 1920, if my memory serves."

"But you look like you're thirty," Mr. Dugan whispered in a confused tone, not understanding how the man could be so old when he looked so young. He wasn't aged or elderly, but instead, looked as if he was in the middle of the prime of his life.

"I'm not all that I appear," The man gave out a laugh, though it sounded more like a wheezing cough. "I was trapped there after being attacked by a demon. I'll always remember those cold, red eyes that she had with her red hair to match. I found her snooping around the cathedral, we battled, she slaughtered everyone in her path except for me; I was a little tougher than she anticipated. She knocked me unconscious and when I awoke, I was trapped in the chamber."

"How did no one find you?" Rory questioned, not understanding how he could be trapped seventy years or so without anyone even realizing it.

"The trap was magical, which probably prevented people from noticing it," The man replied, knowing that there was more magic than mystery involved in the reasons for his entrapment. "Plus, like I said, she slaughtered everyone in her path, anyone who knew me here was killed or seriously injured."

"A demon with red eyes that can perform magic," Rory murmured, looking over to the Banshee, wondering if she had anything to say on the matter. "Do you know who that can be?"

"Not that I can recall," The Banshee answered, shaking her head in the negative. "It could have been anyone."

"Thank you for freeing me," The man started, as he used Rory to help himself to his feet. He was wobbly for a moment, but eventually, he was able to keep his balance. "I am Quasimodo," He said, reaching his hand out for Rory to shake, truly grateful to be free once more.

"Quasimodo?" Mr. Dugan exclaimed with wide eyes, obviously recognizing the name instantly. "Like the book?"

"Certain liberties were taking with that," Quasimodo returned with a grimace, not liking the fact that his life was made a mockery of within the pages of a book. He had been a teenager when the story came out, having met Victor Hugo once before, and he felt betrayed by the man, which led to his continuing loneliness, especially now that everyone he ever knew was dead-though he himself had never actually read the book. "At least he got the hunchback part right."

Seeing that it was a tender subject, Rory shook Quasimodo's hand and introduced himself in an effort to change the direction of the conversation. "I am Rory, Rory Dugan, but don't thank me, it was Molly that led us to you," Rory said, pointing over to the Banshee, who had was still lingering in her elfish form.

"I give you my thanks, Madame," Quasimodo said, giving a small bow in appreciation. "Many have come, but you were the only one who heard my pleas, and for that, I am forever grateful."

"You do not fear me?" Banshee questioned, staring at him suspiciously, trying to figure out why he was so willing to accept her form as it was. Then, as if seeing something on his face, she furrowed her brows as realization dawned upon her. "You are a Halfling."

"I know now what I am," Quasimodo returned, having never known what he was before then. "Before now, I simply knew that I had abilities that go beyond normal. My mother died before I was old enough to remember, so I believed I was a freak when I was a child, which is why I secluded myself in the Cathedral of God in an effort to banish whatever demons may have been possessing me. First I worked as stone carver, and then as the bell ringer, but as the years passed, I noticed I was not aging, instead I was simply changing. While I have always had a hunched back, it gradually got worse and worse as time went on, leaving me in a bad state. While others died, I simply became more decrepit."

"It's because of the bells," whispered Rory, knowing the exact reason for Quasimodo's wretchedness. "If you are a Halfling, and I have no reason to doubt Molly's understanding, then the iron in the bells was making you weaker and weaker, presumably the reason for your current look."

"The bells?" Quasimodo replied confusedly, not understanding why a bell would affect him like Rory was implying.

"You said you were a bell ringer in your younger days?" Rory said, raising a questioning eyebrow, wanting to make sure his knowledge on the subject was correct.

"I was..." Quasimodo nodded slowly, hoping to learn as much as he could from the travelers that had saved him from eternal captivity.

"Members of the Fair Folk are weak to iron, so it would make sense," Rory shrugged, just offering it as a suggestion, rather than a true reason for Quasimodo's appearance. "The more you rung the bells, the more and more you started to change, I would imagine."

"The knell of a bell has been known to harm many of my people," Banshee added, before she flashed into her human form, not wanting to be the Banshee as they discussed her own weaknesses.

Quasimodo's eyes went wide as his gaze snapped to Molly, staring at her in amazement, having never seen anything like her before. "You can shapeshift?" He questioned in a curious and excited voice, thrilled at the prospect of learning more about himself through her.

"As you would have probably been able to, had you mastered your powers in your younger days," Molly replied in her thick Irish brogue, crossing her arms in front of her body. "Now, I doubt you'd be able to conjure even the smallest of disguises."

Quasimodo nodded with a sigh, not surprised that he was unable to do the grand things that Molly had done- he had never been special in his opinion. "Are you going to be okay?" Rory asked, happy to have helped Quasimodo but wanting to get on their way.

"Why were you here?" Quasimodo questioned after a second of thought, wondering why the group of three were even in the vicinity to help him.

"We were sent here to free you," Rory answered, presuming correctly that Avalon had sent them to Notre Dame to help Quasimodo out of his predicament.

"Sent by whom?" Quasimodo inquired with a raised eyebrow, wondering who it was that knew of his unjust incarceration.

"By destiny," laughed Rory, realizing how incredible it sounded when he thought about it. "We are on an adventure, with our direction being chosen for us. Where we end up, we don't even know, but we just follow it until we find what it is we are looking for."

Quasimodo furrowed his brow, curious as to what Rory meant by that. "What are you looking for?"

"My companion," Rory answered, not going into any more detail than that. "So you will be okay, right?"

"Yes, I'll be fine, thank you," Quasimodo whispered, looking down at the floor as he pondered what he would do with his life now that he was finally freed. He had been in there for so long, with only his thoughts as companionship that he didn't know what to do anymore, having grown to assume that he would never be freed. Now that he was indeed free, he was confused as to where he was supposed to be and what he was supposed to do.

"Well then, we should be off," Rory said, patting Quasimodo on the shoulder. "I wish you luck, friend."

The trio all nodded goodbye as they walked back to the stairway, knowing that they had been sent by Avalon to free Quasimodo and that they would not find the Hound of Ulster in Notre Dame. Silently, they walked down the varying stairs, and out of the tower, heading towards their boat on the river in the distance. As they neared the bridge, they heard a voice behind them, calling out for them to stop. "Wait!" Quasimodo exclaimed, rushing towards them as quickly as he could. He had a dark cloak on, hunter green in color, with a hood that was covering most of his face, masking his large hump and preventing many from seeing his less attractive facial features.

"What is it?" Rory asked, hoping everything was all right.

"I wish to come along," Quasimodo said as he came to a halt a few feet from the group. "I wish to know more about my heritage, and I feel that you will show it to me. I wish to adventure, to see the outside world, and I wish to meet new people."

"I don't know when we'll be back in Paris," replied Rory, biting his lip as he thought about whether or not to allow Quasimodo to go with them. Could they take passengers along on the adventure? Could he risk allowing himself to willingly put Quasimodo in danger?

"Those that I knew in my past have presumably moved on, whether it is to the next world or just their lives in general, I wish to do the same," Quasimodo informed Rory, hoping that he would be able to find something more to his life outside of the cathedral. "I am strong, I can help you in whatever adventure you find yourself on."

Rory looked over to Molly and his father, trying to read their expressions before he decided. "What do you think?"

"It is whatever you want to do, son," Mr. Dugan said, allowing Rory to choose for himself. Rory's eyes flicked over to Molly, who like most times, just shrugged, not having an opinion one way or the other-or, more likely, not voicing it.

"It might be dangerous," informed Rory, trying to instill into Quasimodo that there were some dangers on the horizon.

"I can handle it, like I said, I'm strong," Quasimodo returned, flexing his muscular arms. It was true, for his halfling nature allowed for much greater strength than a normal human possessed. Additionally, he was extraordinarily tough, being able to take damage that would injure most people, except when it came to iron, which he had just realized was a major weakness of his. "Please, let me come, let me learn about the world."

Rory inhaled deeply, before nodding in agreement, coming to a decision. "If you want, you're welcome," he smiled, gesturing for Quasimodo to follow them to the boat. With a smile in turn, Quasimodo did as he was told, following closely behind the trio, not really knowing what to expect. They all hopped down onto the boat, and upon seeing Quasimodo's confused expression, Rory couldn't help but laugh. "There is a spell that will take us to another place."

"Magic?" Quasimodo whispered, a bit worried, having had a very bad experience with the last time he came across magic.

Using the oars, Rory and his father pushed the boat off of the wall, while Molly said the spell, the fog of Avalon quickly overcoming the boat, taking the trio and their new ally onto another great adventure. Unbeknownst to anyone in the boat, Quasimodo would become a best of friend, one who would help them not only in their quest, but for the rest of their lives, as well. He would be there whenever they needed, just as they would be there for him. He was the first addition to the group that would become the Heroes of Ulster, but to his great happiness, he would not be the last.

A/N: Not sure there will be another chapter, but I do have them written, so be on the lookout.


End file.
